Never Alone
by Dreamer of Legends
Summary: Yugi is forced to cope with the burden of many lives on his shoulders now, not just his own. Does he have strength enough to stand on his own against Marik and his many twisted games? Set in the Battle City arc, a remake of episode 95.


"Yugi, you must sleep." Yami admonished gently, though there was no honest reproach in the softly spoken words.

The tension in the air was thick, almost palpable; but it lay not between the two figures that shared in the now splintered silence. Rather, it swirled within themselves, a restless and tireless fiend. It stirred to life many questions that had no answers, breaking even the most hardy and solid hopes into tiny, shimmering fragments as the night grew ever darker. Reason and truth were swallowed up in the madness that was steadily beginning to claim the minds of everyone aboard the spacious blimp; no amount of physical distance could erase the knowledge that the embodiment of hatred and insanity itself dwelt among them. Unsleeping.

Eventually, the less substantial of the isolated pair had realized that they were trapped within a chaotic whirlpool of hopelessness and despair that would only kill them both. He did not know nor care what had broken his trance and allowed him to bring his focus back to the present; he strived only to break the cycle, and save whatever hope still flickered inside the dark.

The spirit's voice flowed over Yugi, comfortable and familiar, easing the tenseness in his chest so that it no longer commanded all of his attention. He too, had then rapidly come to realize what was happening, and hastily sought to free himself from the cold shackles that chained his heart down.

There was much strength under the words, a strength that the young teenager had come to rely on more than once before when strange events began unfolding in common places. Out of sheer necessity, he had carved a habit of clinging to that omnipresent tone in the voice, using it as a confident shield against the weight of unkind reality. It may have been a fool's notion, but Yugi sometimes felt as though the sheer power of the ancient spirit's words alone would somehow become a weapon enough to smite their troubles from afar.

Yami tried to bolster Yugi's spirits as best he could, though he felt that his comfort was a fragile thing, strained with his own barely concealed worry and unease. Yugi did not seem to think so, however, and for that he was grateful. He narrowed his focus until the boy's face encompassed his vision and thought more of encouragement and comfort, knowing that these things would inexplicably wind their way out of his heart and through his veins, crossing the intangible bond that connected their minds together. He poured what little warmth he had left within himself into that invisible link now, caressing the ragged emotions of his counterpart until the tight knot of anxiety that pounded in his core loosened somewhat.

Eventually, heartened by this unspoken show of support, Yugi was able to shake himself free of bleak thoughts and sit up wearily. Still, despite himself, some of the despair clung to him, and voiced itself in the form of a half-hearted and seemingly apathetic protest.

"But I'm worried."

He stopped himself almost at once and let his eyes fall, knowing that simply 'worried' was a ridiculous understatement. There was little he could say that would accurately emphasize the depth of the anxiety he felt at that moment; and he felt that anything positive he tried to embrace at this point would merely be drowned in a fathomless wash of cold sorrow. Yami winced inwardly as the first of those icy waves lapped at the edges of his mind, threatening to engulf the both of them without pause and without mercy. He briefly entertained a rather frighteningly vivid mental image of the two of them sinking, drowning in an ocean of frozen blackness. The metaphor clung to the back of his skull like some sort of twisted leech, sending chills and a vague sense of apprehensive déjà vu spiraling through him. But he did not let it show, understanding that his role this night, as a protector and as a friend, was one of optimistic support and never ending faith.

For Yugi.

"It's natural for you to be frightened," he reached across the bed where he sat and placed his incorporeal hand over his friend's in a show of closeness and unity. He was not alone. "But together we can do this."

Yugi couldn't meet his eyes. He made the task before them sound so easy; the future seem so bright. He looked down in sorrow, absently observing the way Yami's hand seemed bathed in neither light nor shadow, but instead somehow remained between both. He wished for a brief moment that he could feel the warmth of the gesture, but of course such a thing was impossible.

"I know, but it seems like things have gotten so far out of hand lately." He explained, wrapping his arms around his knees and staring into the darkness. "Just when I think I've got Marik all figured out, he goes and becomes twenty times more evil than he was in the first place!" He stopped again, a hard lump in his throat. What else could he say? Yami knew the danger just as-or perhaps more-clearly than Yugi did. He understood why panic was beginning to swell within him, but neither of them knew how to stop it. Yugi felt there was nothing they could do, at least for the moment, but sit by and wait for the psycho to finish his fun. Yet how could they? Knowing what kinds of damage could be wrought, not only to themselves, but to the ones they loved, how could they just stand and watch?

They couldn't. But then what _could_ be done?

Yami felt his heart shiver in sympathetic pain. He knew the expression on his partner's haunted face all too well, but he wasn't sure what he could say to comfort his young friend. With so much of the same hopeless despair seeping through his own thoughts, he could not be certain of the conviction in what he wanted to be an encouraging tone. He tried to put some of his old confidence into his words, in the hopes Yugi would recognize it and be reminded of past victories and battles well fought. Knowing that they had faced such danger before could certainly help, but Yami knew that it was the elusive and fickle nature of this new villain, the randomness to his torturous techniques and the inability to predict where and at whom he would strike next was what was truly eating Yugi; from the inside out.

"We _will_ defeat him." He stated, as encouragingly as he could. He still grimaced when the words passed his lips though, knowing almost before he had said anything that his approach wasn't helping.

"I want to believe that," Yugi whispered earnestly, and he raised his eyes to meet the spirit's once more. Yami caught the flicker of hope in their dark, glittering depths at last, but could only watch helplessly as it was slowly covered by the ocean of silent defeat. "But I'm not so sure anymore..."

The last reserves of whatever light the spirit still had inside of him up until that moment were drained away when the admission filled the air. Yugi, who was always the picture of optimism, Yugi, who never saw how high the odds were piled against him and who wouldn't acknowledge it even when he did, was disappearing. Lost in a mire of doubt and faithlessness. Yami shuddered outwardly this time, feeling the vulnerability that Yugi was floating in leeching across their link to take root in his own mind. He couldn't find the right things to say, momentarily paralyzed by the mental intensity of trying to fight against the shadowy tide of pessimism.

Yugi went on, his voice hollow and utterly downtrodden. "You saw what he did to Mai. This guy is completely insane, and _I'm_ the one he really wants..."

The vulnerable feeling increased, and at last Yami understood the source of Yugi's negative feelings. How were they going to halt Marik's deranged advances toward his twisted goals, defend themselves against his sheer power, when they couldn't even protect the people that he bore no true grudge against in the first place?

He stumbled mentally, searching for the words to comfort, soothe, encourage, _something._ But his efforts were in vain, for Yugi took one look into his eyes and, without missing a beat, sighed.

"Let me guess. 'If we trust in the Heart of the Cards we can beat this guy.'" Somehow, he managed to turn that secure fact into a questionable one, the surrender already thick in both his posture and his tone.

"Yes." Yami whispered. But for once, words just didn't seem to be enough.

Yugi relinquished the energy needed to stay upright and let gravity claim him, falling to the pillows without a sound. He considered it a fitting comparison to their current plight. From the corner of his eye he caught the grimace that Yami directed at him. He had not missed the likeness. They turned away from each other, neither willing to admit to failure in front of the other, neither wanting to admit it to themselves. A single tear slipped through Yugi's lashes, a tear he desperately hoped Yami could not see. The little drop traced a solitary and lonely line across his nose before disappearing into the pillow as if it had never been there.

The spirit watched him quietly, painfully wishing that there was something, anything more he could do. There was nothing else that could be said. Perhaps for now, it would be best to simply leave the youth alone, give him the time and space he needed to deal with his emotions and his fears properly. Once they had both had some time to think they would be a little more open to positives. Yami shook his head and gazed out the window solemnly. He wished that the night would end.

Wordlessly, and without giving indication of his actions, Yami stood and took a single step away, intending to retreat to the Puzzle and let Yugi gain some much needed sleep.

A single, muffled sob stopped him in his tracks.

He looked back with wide eyes, wondering if he had misheard. Yugi, trembling slightly, had thought the spirit already gone, and was swiftly letting his barriers and restrictions crumble away into nothingness. Another choked sound, this one less shamefully concealed, ripped across the room and struck, quivering, in the spirit's not easily shaken soul.

Yugi was _crying_. When- What- How had this happened? Yami became faintly conscious of the long delayed understanding that this was perhaps the first time he had ever actually seen his partner cry.

To see him break down like this, only now, after he had thought the spirit already safely out of earshot, forced Yami to stop and reconsider a few things. With a bit of a guilty jolt, he rapidly and dizzyingly came to the conclusion that for all he and his partner had been through, for all Yugi had done for him, Yami had never really stopped to _think_ about how much this was costing him. Had he taken his partner's strength for granted? Had he been mistaken in assuming that time was all Yugi needed, all that it would take to mend the wounds that were being torn?

Looking at his shaking friend now, obviously trying so hard to be strong, Yami could see clearly just how much pain and agony he was in. For the first time, he began to understand that Yugi was not fully like him. He could not so readily hide his pain and frustrations, his doubts and his fears, behind a mask of unshakeable resolve. Unwavering faith was Yami's mental stronghold; he had never stopped to consider that Yugi may not have had one to rely on in times like these. What a fool he had been!

A lump grew in the pharaoh's throat as he stood bathed in the semi-darkness. He felt at a loss as to what to do, knowing that he now more fully understood just how much pain was within his partner's heart did not make it any easier to deal with. Some of it was being released now, but he could tell that as the minutes slipped by, so did Yugi's willingness to express the agony, and expel it from his core. He was stubborn, that was certain, and it didn't help much that his society had taught him that boys did not cry. For all of the discomfort Yami suddenly felt in seeing his partner bare himself like this, Yami thought the lesson a ridiculous one. It pained him even more to think that Yugi had found the need to wait until his friend, his brother, his _other half_ had left the room before he would open up to begin with. Yami knew then, at that second in time, what he had to do.

But of course knowing was one thing, _doing_ was entirely another. It was not as if he was exactly accustomed to this...

Yugi's thoughts had degenerated once more into the chaotic swirl of doubt and bone-deep fear that had encompassed him before.

_This is so much more than just a card game_, _and I don't want to lose anymore friends._

He _couldn't_ lose anymore friends. The weight of too many lives, too many souls settled themselves on his shoulders; he felt he would surely crumble beneath their combined weight, especially with Yami no longer there to banish them with his words. So much was at stake here. He felt that he had graduated from 'save your grandfather' to 'save your friends' to 'save the whole freaking planet why don't you?' There was no way he could handle that kind of responsibility, he was only one person! Just Yugi Moto; an average high school teenager with a passion for games. That was it! Not a hero, not a king.

Not a king...

Something changed. Between one struggling breath and the next, Yugi's mind had been wiped blessedly clean of the poisons he'd felt sure would have drowned him only a second ago. What had happened? His attitude certainly hadn't changed, he still felt awful; discouraged, helpless and broken. But it seemed like the weight of these things had been lifted somewhat, as if someone had reached inside of him and held the negativity suspended above him. It was still there, still real... but it no longer crushed him.

He stiffened reflexively when a feather-light touch whispered across his arms. When a pair of thin, strong, and partially see-through hands entered his vision, he stiffened for real. Hurriedly, he tried to wipe his face and obliterate any evidence of tear tracks.

"Yami?" He questioned innocently, trying not to let the strain in his voice through. How much had he seen? "I thought you were in the Puzzle."

There was no response. But after a silent, tense second, the hands retreated from his line of sight without a sound. Yugi would never admit to it, but he felt a sliver of loneliness slice through him when they left. He turned around, fully intending to demand what that had been about and hopefully hide his private moment of weakness deep beneath the surface of his confusion.

The moment he had completed his turn Yami closed in and wrapped his arms around Yugi, drawing him into a sudden, silent embrace.

Stunned, Yugi couldn't find himself for a good, long moment. Yami did not speak; Yugi couldn't find the right nerves to get his tongue working again. Did... did that just happen? Did that just honestly, truly happen? Had Yami, easily the last person Yugi would have ever expected this from, really just hugged him?

Yami, for his part, was so overwhelmed by the bewilderment of what he had just done that he quite forgot that there was an actual reason for it. Now that he was here, offering support to his friend in a new, more solid manner, it seemed so natural. He had abruptly and without warning come to understand why the people of this age valued these moments so much. He could clearly feel Yugi's every breath as it expanded in his chest and gusted into the hollow at the base of his throat, where his face was currently pressed. Once he had become accustomed to the position, he thought he could even feel his _heartbeat_.

How amazing.

Yugi wasn't sure what to think. Part of him was horrified that Yami might have seen him cry to himself; part of him realized that the spirit likely didn't care, in light of his actions. He stayed so still for so long that eventually his unresponsiveness alerted Yami that something may be wrong.

The spirit pushed away immediately; not roughly, but swiftly. He had been so caught up in trying to comfort his partner he had forgotten to make certain that the action was acceptable before he carried it out. Had he crossed a line?

"I'm sorry." He apologized quickly, backing up a little more. "I should have- I should have asked you first. Before I... Well, you know." He finished somewhat sheepishly, not liking how the word 'hug' sat on his tongue. It wasn't manly.

Yugi just stared at him with wide eyes. "H-how..." He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "How much did you see?"

Yami's eyes were soft pools of understanding, something Yugi had never truly seen before. "Just enough."

"Oh."

Neither moved past that, unsure what to do next. Yami hoped that he had not inadvertently pushed his partner farther away from him with his abrupt actions, especially since Yugi was already in need of comfort. Yami had followed his instincts in trying to ease him, but he was well aware that he was treading on unfamiliar ground here. If only he had realized sooner just how little he honestly knew about Yugi... maybe he could have found another way to help, one less obviously awkward for the both of them.

"I didn't want you to see that." Yugi admitted softly, breaking Yami's thoughts apart. "I'm sorry."

_Sorry? I'm the one who should be sorry._ Yami thought, but he didn't say anything just yet, sensing that Yugi had more to say.

"I guess I'm just not as strong as I thought I was. I'm not as confident as you are, not as faithful. And-" He paused here, clearly uncomfortable. The rest of the sentence bunched up and jumbled out in a murmured mess.

"Yugi?" Yami prompted, wanting an honest confession out of the boy. And oh, did he ever get one.

"I said I'm sorry that I'm weighing you down." Yugi finished, quickly, but clearly. Yami could not have been more surprised at the unexpected answer.

"Yugi!" He breathed, completely aghast. "Is that what you think?"

Chagrined by the admonishment in the spirit's voice, Yugi hung his head and fell silent. Now it was Yami's turn to find the correct nerves to get his mouth working again. He had certainly not expected this!

Slipping one hand under Yugi's chin, he lifted his face so that Yugi would have no choice but to look him in the eyes as he spoke. "I should be the one to apologize to _you_, Yugi." He whispered. "I have put you through so much. First Duelist Kingdom, then Battle City, and now this?" He shook his head with a heavy sigh. "I do not deserve to be called one of your friends."

Yugi looked quite ready to protest again, but Yami held up a hand in a silent plea for the chance to explain himself. Yugi nodded reluctantly and granted it.

"I only realized tonight just how much you have had to sacrifice for me. I..." He paused. "You must understand Yugi. I have no memory of myself at all. No clues, no hints, no name, no identity." Yugi nodded absently, this was nothing new, but Yami continued as if he hadn't seen the action.

"Ever since you put the Puzzle together I have had to rely on your knowledge of the world to give me back some of what I had lost. It was not enough, at first, to build me a new identity, and so I borrowed yours for a long time. I was your shadow, another part of you no different from your courage or your faith. I might as well have been just another emotion, there when you needed me, gone when you didn't."

The spirit raised an ethereal hand and brought it to his own face. "But eventually Yugi, I found more and more of myself the longer I was with you. It took a long while, but eventually I was able to recognize that I was just as much a part of you as I was separate. It was your faith in the Heart of the Cards, I think, that struck me so deeply. I recognized it within myself as well, and from there I had my first clues about who I used to be, and what I was doing here.

"It seemed that a large part of my missing identity was buried in Duel Monsters, and the more fascinated you were with it, the more awake I in turn became. It was then that we really started to work together, though it would be a while before we truly met face to face and knew that the other was not just an illusion."

Yami smiled, a soft and warm smile that Yugi had not seen before. "I was actually quite worried that you would be afraid of me, you know."

"I was kind of worried I was going insane." Yugi countered, a grin working its way to his lips as well. "How many people can honestly say they have voices in their heads that _literally_ tell them what to do?" He stopped for a second. "Well, when I was dueling anyway." He amended slightly.

Yami chuckled, a rich sound that did much to ease the leftover tension plaguing Yugi's muscles. He relaxed.

"When we first met one another in that duel against Bakura's spirit, I was determined to show you that I meant no harm to you or your friends. I wanted to prove to you that you could trust me, and that we could work together and as one to beat the evil once and for all. I was not even sure _why_ I was so bent on earning your trust. It just felt... right, like it was a step in the correct direction to finding out who I was; where I came from. Once I had secured that trust, I felt like I could do whatever it took toward gaining my lost identity."

Yugi heard the sudden note of apprehension in Yami's words when he finished, and could guess easily enough where he was headed. He decided not to interrupt however, wanting to let Yami get this all of his chest at once. Yugi had never heard him talk so freely so much before.

"I didn't realize then that I had limits. It was not my body, my life, and the choices I wanted were not mine to take. I wanted to decide which direction we would go in, and I didn't understand until it was almost too late that it didn't matter what _I_ wanted, ultimately. This is your life to live Yugi. These are your choices. Not only did I disregard that once, but tonight I realized that I have been neglecting once again to treat us as two individuals. I often forget that you are who you are Yugi; a young boy entered in a tournament only for the sake of his friend. You didn't expect all of this to happen, and you've never had to reach that point where determination and faith in yourself are literally all you have to go on. Your faith in the Heart of the Cards, in your friends, in yourself, in _me_, is so strong it has kept me going all this time. I had just forgotten that you may not have had the same strength to rely on, or at least might not have found it yet."

Yugi was silent a long while, trying to think. He couldn't accept what Yami was trying to tell him. That he was just as strong as the pharaoh? Impossible. It was silly; after everything Yami had to go through just to save Yugi's grandfather, without complaint, without regret, without demanding payback, it was ridiculous to think that Yugi wouldn't do everything he could to somehow even the score.

Yami let the words process before he hesitantly placed a hand on Yugi's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I just wanted to show you that I'm sorry. And I thought the best way to do that was with a -hug." He tried not to stumble over the word this time, but his tongue still caught behind his teeth when he said it. Was it some sort of male-dominant gene that forbid the expression of platonic physical contact?

Yugi's heart fluttered weakly behind his ribs as he came to understand that Yami's whole explanation had been his way of saying 'thank you'. Carefully, trying not to startle him, he put an arm around the spirit's not-entirely-solid form and gave an awkward sort of half-hug back.

Yami blinked before he smiled again and bent a little, pulling Yugi closer. They shared a silent moment of mutual understanding, moving one step closer to one another as life-long partners, and eternal friends. Yugi caught himself fiercely hoping that they could defeat Marik, once and for all, so that he wouldn't have to worry about his friends being in danger anymore. No more worrying about where he would strike next, no more watching as his friends slipped away one by one and left him alone...

"You're never alone Yugi." Yami promised abruptly, as if reading his thoughts and somehow knowing exactly what to say to ease them. Maybe he was. His voice was suddenly powerful again, even in hushed tones. "Never."


End file.
